


Will this 6'3" wrestling champion find her perfect wedding dress?

by Rayne11



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Say yes to the dress (tv)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Say Yes to the Dress Fusion, F/M, Fluff, Fun, Humour, Modern Westeros, No history of twincest, wedding dress shopping for bri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayne11/pseuds/Rayne11
Summary: The Rose Queen Bridal Boutique is Brienne's last hope for finding a wedding gown she might actually want to wear on her magical day.Unfortunately, it's also where Say Yes To The Dress - Westeros, is filmed.With Brienne's crazy insecurities and crazier sister in law in attending, the appointment is bound to be a wreck.*One shot*
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 20
Kudos: 103





	Will this 6'3" wrestling champion find her perfect wedding dress?

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you @desla_be for editing ❤️❤️❤️  
> Check out her works for the loveliest, fluffiest, Sansan fics everrrr

“Hi, I’m Margaery! So nice to meet you! Well, who’s my bride?” A beautiful woman walks in with flourish, black heels clacking against the white marble floor. She looks prim and proper with her hair in an elegant twist and her sleek black fitted skirt and blouse. 

Brienne immediately shrinks, feeling more and more like a lumbering beast by the second. 

“I am,” she raises a hand, hesitantly, which Margaery grasps with a dazzling smile. “I’m Brienne Tarth, I’m twenty eight years old and I’m a professional wrestler.”

“O-M-G!” Margaery beams. The camera pans up and down, taking in all of Brienne’s giant shoulders and legs. “And who have you brought with you today?” 

Brienne clears her throat, which has suddenly gone dry, as quietly as she can manage. “I’ve brought my dad-” the camera zooms in on Selwyn, who tries his best to give a natural smile. 

“Can we get that again?” Lommy the cameraman calls. He makes a rolling motion and everyone nods. Brienne finds herself nodding, too. 

“Relax, dear, be comfortable,” Margaery supplies, unhelpfully. 

Brienne the Bobblehead nods again. “I’ve brought with me my dad -” camera zooms to Selwyn, “my manager Catelyn, my future sister in law Cersei-” the camera lingers at the two beautiful women- “my future niece and maid of honor Myrcella, and Merianne, my bridesmaid.” 

“That’s great! Tell us about your fiance,” Margaery prompts. The camera man comes closer and Bri struggles to not look right into the lens.

“My camera- err- sorry… can we try that again?” Brienne winces. 

Margaery visibly suppresses a sigh. “Of course, dear. Next time you fumble, just keep going. We’ll edit it out later.” She waves her hand in the air as if the clip is already gone as she’s speaking. 

“Ok, cool got it.” Brienne nods some more, and wipes her hands on her jeans. _Do people wear jeans to a bridal shop appointment? On TV, no less? Of course they don’t. I’m an idiot._

She closes her eyes for a second and visualises all the bullet points she had made the night before and practised. Jaime had tried not to laugh. He had laughed, but Brienne was willing to give him at least a B- for effort. 

“My fiance is Jaime,” she says, feeling a smile coming on with a rush of affection. She makes no move to suppress it. “And he’s the love of my life. We met at a match. Catelyn,” Bri nodded in her direction, “actually, introduced us. He used to be a wrestler but had to quit due to-” Brienne feels herself choke up. The camera is fixed on her, like an alien eye or a giant colonoscopy probe just fixated on her big blue eyes. Out of habit, she ducks her head and lets some of her short, straw-coloured hair fall on her face. 

Cersei rolls her eyes, Bri notices, in the periphery of her vision. 

“He had to quit due to his accident. Now, he’s a coach and owns a gym.” Brienne finishes, but the others are looking at her expectantly. “Where I train,” she adds, hoping to placate them. “...Often.” _Great. Brilliant. Real smooth, Brienne. Not awkward at all._

“Oh, that’s so sweet!” Margaery takes the wheels again, gushing and nodding. _Why is everyone nodding so much?_ “When is the wedding?”

“Next spring. We’re getting married on Tarth where I’m from, at my ancestral home. It’s going to be a fairly small event. Just family and some close friends,” Brienne says.

“Sounds lovely,” Margaery says, then claps her hands, “now, what kind of dress are you looking for?” 

_Something that'll make me feel pretty, damn it. But nothing's going to, so I came with reasonable expectations. But I can't say that on TV._

“Anything that’ll fit,” Cersei chimes in with a tinkling laugh. When no one else laughs, she adds, “What? It’s true.” 

“Brienne is very tall and shapely, so we definitely want something to accentuate her legs,” Merianne says, for which Brienne is grateful. “She also loves things that have more of a modern look.”

Bri nods. “No sparkles, no lace and -” she searches for a way to put it mildly, “-I want something that’ll draw attention to my bottom half.”- _Rather than the top half,_ she leaves unsaid. 

The makeup artists had been told to leave the guests alone for the most part except touch-ups for “authenticity.”. Catelyn has her signature cat eye glasses and brown lipstick on, Cersei is stunning as usual, all decked out in a red gown and matching lip. Merry is in a soft pink dress, which Brienne is sure she’d look like a bear in, her pale purple curls flowing down to her waist, and Myrcella- little Myrcella, so beautiful, even with the scar on her cheek- is dressed much like Brienne. Beige top, washed out pants, sensible black shoes. Nothing to see here.

Now, Bri wishes she’d taken up Merry on her offer to do some makeup. Maybe some eyeliner would draw attention away from her rabbit teeth. Not much, but maybe just enough. 

She knows they will show pictures of her and Jaime when the episode airs and Brienne can all but hear what everyone is going to say. All of Westeros wondering what a literal god is doing with _her_.

“And what’s your budget?” Margaery asks before Bri could sink deeper into her hole of insecurities. 

“We want to keep it under three thousand.” 

“Alright, and who’s paying for the dress?” 

“I am,” Selwyn says, same time Brienne says, “my dad.” 

“And, dad,” Margaery asks, “is there any leeway at all?”

Selwyn sits up straighter with a smile that’s not ingenuine, just unaccustomed to scrutiny. “If Brienne loves it, and it’s the right dress, we can go over a bit.”

“Within reason,” Brienne pipes up immediately. It’s already too much but the joy in her dad’s eyes when he offered to pay for the dress made it impossible to refuse. 

“Within reason,” he allows. 

“Alright then, let’s get shopping!” Margaery claps her hands. 

If the lobby was a mansion, the actual store is a straight-up palace. A giant rose gold plaque on a huge double door entrance reads “The Rose Queen Bridal Boutique.” It opens into a what Brienne can only describe as pretty-girl heaven. 

Myrcella and Cat make noises of awe and Merianne actually gasps. 

Soft violin fills the room. A gorgeous chandelier gives soft light all over the huge room.The floor is wall to wall cream carpet.

Some bridal parties are already shopping, having occupied a few of the mirrors taking up corners of the vaguely octagonal room. A few brides in the middle of their fittings, Bri noticed, have wedding gowns on with clips running all down the back of the dress. They stand on blue velvet pedestals.

They all turn to stare as Brienne walks in. Most look with shock, some with awe and some with what can only be shock curdled to pity. Those ones hurt the most- apart from the ones with mirth, that is. 

Their expressions sour almost immediately as they lay eyes on the rest of Brienne’s entourage. She can imagine how they look to the rest of the world. Four of the most beautiful women in Westeros following an actual troll. 

_No, stop it!_ Brienne scolds herself. She and Jaime had worked so hard to build up what little confidence she has, she doesn’t want it to go to waste. Not for some strange women she’ll never see again in her life. 

Brienne knows she has good qualities. She knows, but knowing isn’t the same as feeling. 

Not for the first time today, Brienne thinks she should’ve just gotten a dress online. 

The staff comes over, bringing two more soft pink armchairs for Selwyn and Catelyn. Selwyn, in his light blue shirt and grey vest, sits with his enormous frame folded in the dainty chair. The sparse white hair on his head catches the light, making his eyes brighter. He looks up at Brienne and she knows what he’s thinking. “Your mother would give anything to be here.” 

Brienne feels her eyes mist up, but blinks away the tears. 

“This is like a fairytale, Marcie, I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful,” Merry says. She’s already exploring, admiring some of the dresses on the maniquinnes when Margaery reappears. 

“Ok so everyone take a seat and we’ll discuss a bit more about the fit of the dress.” 

“Brienne do you have any particular style in mind? Do you want more flowy or fitted, conservative or are you open to showing some skin?” 

Brienne blushes. 

“I want something more fitted. Not too revealing... but I’m not opposed to a leg slit maybe…” she admits, almost ashamed of wanting to show off any part of her body. 

“Definitely no ball gowns,” she adds, the words tripping over themselves to come out. “Nothing princess-y or you know-” she waves her hand trying to find the right word- “...poofy.”

“Good call,” Cersei says. “You’d look like a plastered wall with tulle hanging off it.” 

_It’s meant to be a joke. She just thinks it's funny_ , Bri tries to tell herself. Cersei is an important part of Jaime’s life. She's his twin. They came into this world _together_ , as Cersei so sincerely reminds her at least once every time they all happen to be within a one mile radius. 

But despite Bri’s best efforts, her and Cersei's relationship is crumbling at best. 

“Mom!” Myrcella hisses, while Merry gives Bri’s hand a small squeeze. 

“Honey, it is a joke. Brienne knows that,” Cersei says with a fake laugh. “We’re friends, we joke around, don’t we Bri?” 

_Does high school never end?_ “Sure, Cersei.” 

The silence stretches awkwardly, till Margaery again tries to wrangle them into wholesomeness. 

“Are you open to shorter dresses? Or would you prefer a full length gown?” Margaery asks, the champagne shimmer on her lids catching the light. _People would take one look at the pictures and think it should be someone like Margaery walking down the aisle to Jaime._

“Anything is fine,” Brienne says, hoping she doesn’t sound as sad as she feels. She should’ve just gotten a dress off Amazon. They even had a limited time free shipping offer! Plus Brienne has gift cards stored up. _Well, it’s too late now,_ she thinks miserably.

_… Or is it? We could leave right now. What’re they gonna do? Wrangle me back into the store? I can take ‘em all._

“Now that we’ve got the bride’s choices, let’s go look at some dresses!” Margaery says. 

_Nope, too late. Definitely too late._

There’s some excited squeals from the younger girls, mostly Merry. 

“I’ll pick out some styles I think will look great on you,” Margaery says, disappearing a moment later behind a rack of floor length gowns. 

There’s only her, the camera men and the rustling of plastic covers being shoved from end to end. 

“Look around, sweetling,” her dad says. “Maybe you’ll like something. They sure have an awful lot of dresses.” There’s a mix of awe and intimidation in his voice. It makes Brienne giggle. 

“They sure do. I’m sure I’ll find something here, right?” 

Brienne can’t believe Margaery talked her into trying on this gown but she did. The girl is good, Bri admits. She’d talk a hostage into committing treason, that one. 

“Well,” Marg wiggles her brows, “what do you think? Do you love it?”

Brienne is still gawking into the mirror. The gown is --- conservative, to say the least. The dress is almost entirely lace, which Bri is surprised to find, isn’t even the worst thing about it. The style is _horrendous_. 

It is a drop waist dress with ruffles at the bottom and a neckline which is, for all intents and purposes, a turtleneck. The sleeves are short and make her shoulders look even beefier than usual. 

It's all Bri can do to not cry. Margaery notices though. 

"What's wrong? Do you not like it?" she's all but pouting, but it doesn't seem unnatural on her. 

"It's very pretty," Brienne manages to choke out, "but it's not for me." 

"Well what do you not like?" 

_Everything!_ Brienne wants to whine and cry, this has happened every single time she has ever gone shopping for a dress -- which by the way she's worn a total of about four times in her entire life. 

There is still rogue hope of finding a dress despite several attempts to squash it, then the subsequent raising of miniscule expectations once the employees all rush over to ensure her their store has got the perfect one. 

The Rose Queen is one of the- if not the- largest bridal stores in Westeros. If they don't have something for Brienne she might as well wear a cut open sleeping bag and call it a day. 

"I don't mind the lace, as much as I thought I would," Bri says. _Start with something nice. Remember -- praise sandwich._ "But I don't like this fit. Or the little sparkles. And the sleeves. And the ruffles." _Oh, right! Sandwich._ "I like the -- the -- uh -- this colour though." Bri groans inwardly. 

The dress, like every other dress here, is white. 

Margaery disagrees. "That's great! So we know you want more of a bright warm white than a cooler one or an ivory. And you don't hate the lace, so that opens up a whole lot of options!" She whisks the dress away and disappears out the door. 

Brienne slumps down in the chair and tugs the toddler sized dressing gown lower. 

She wishes she was anywhere else, it doesn't even matter where. As long as the place doesn't have ten thousand mirrors and acres of netting. 

She can hear some talking outside. Margaery is consulting with one of the other fashion directors. 

The door swings open with more pizzaze than before. In walks a bald man in a purple suit with some kind of flowery perfume she can smell from four feet away. 

"Let's see the bride," he says. 

Bri stands to greet him. Towering over him, she extends a hand. "Hello, I'm Brienne." 

"Varys, darling," he says offering his hand like a medieval lady as if she's meant to kiss it. 

Brienne shakes it anyway. "Nice to meet you…" 

"Mm… hmmm." He takes a turn around her, scrutinizing. "Hmmmmmm." 

_Oh, Seven help me_. 

"I know just the thing for you, dear," he announces and leaves. 

When he returns, Bri wishes she could melt into a puddle. 

He has with him a big ball gown with a mile-long train. The strapless dress has a straight across neckline, and sparkles all over the bodice. 

Its the exact antithesis of what Bri had said she wanted. 

"Wha---" 

"Now, now," he tuts, "before you go on rejecting it, I want you to see yourself in it." 

_A plaster wall with tulle hanging off it._ "It's not going to suit me." 

"Now, I've dealt with more than my fair share of overwhelmed brides," Varys starts. 

_At least he didn't say insecure_ , Bri thinks. And she is overwhelmed, to say the least. 

"I think," he continues, "what you're doing is inhibiting yourself from liking anything feminine. You've already decided that nothing is going to look nice on you and the only way to break that cycle is to put you in something you've never imagined yourself in."

"That's because I know it's not going to look nice, I'm not blind. Or stupid," Bri counters. 

"Just put it on," Varys all but groans. "Chop chop." 

Margaery helps Brienne into the damn thing. It takes only five minutes and one mini panic attack due to suspected drowning in tulle but it's done. 

Bri's back is turned to the mirror and that's how she'd keep it if it were upto her. But it's not. 

Considering what Varys said, Brienne thinks of all the things she's recently been wrong about. 

There had been Hyle and Ron Connington with their stupid prank; there had been Renly who had only kept her around because she did his homework, no questions asked. She'd thought Renly had been perfect. And he was nice enough to overlook her hideousness despite his beauty. But she'd been wrong on more than one count on that one. 

And there had been Jaime, too. Bri had been so conditioned she didn't even think Jaime would be interested in her. He was so far out of her league, they were in different arenas altogether. 

But he _was_ interested in her. He'd admired her for things everyone, including herself, had taken for granted. She'd spent her whole life being undermined, undermining herself, it felt good to stand upto him. 

Sometimes she felt he goaded her into saying good things about herself. 

"Alright," she says. "Alright I'm ready." 

_Whoa. Not like a plastered wall. Definitely not like a plastered wall._

A small smile forms on her face and Margaery squeals - actually squeals - with joy. 

"Is that a smile?" Margaery's eyes sparkle in triumph. 

Bri nods shyly. The dress is huge. So huge that she looks... not hulking in it. The beading, sparkles and appliques on the bodice are placed so it gives her some curves around her chest and the skirt poofs out at an alarming rate, giving her the illusion of hips. 

With everything going on, Bri is somewhat distracted from her shoulders and arms. 

It isn't perfect. _She_ isn't perfect. But Bri can hardly fault the dress for that. 

"Think you want to show it to your family?" Margaery asks. 

_Not really,_ she thinks. _But I guess if I have to._ "Okay." 

"Well come on then." 

Out of the dressing room, the world is still glitzy. The people are still looking. 

Putting on a brave face and straightening her posture, Bri walks to the pedestal. It’s much more intimidating than going into the ring.

There's a few _oohs_ and _ahhs_ from her entourage, and an "ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh" from Merianne. Catelyn smiles and claps in a way that can only be termed as ladylike. 

Varys and a skinny person named Sweets are waiting to the side, both with encouraging smiles on their faces. 

In the brighter light of the main hall, the dress is even prettier. It glitters with the slightest movement, the skirt gliding gently like petals opening as she moves, Brienne feels like someone put her in a flower. 

"So, let's hear from the bride," Varys says. "What do you think of the dress?" 

"I like it," Brienne allows. "I'm not sure if it's my dress, but I'm happy I tried it on." 

Taking a deep breath, Brienne turns to her entourage. Dad is the first she turns to. He's got tears in his eyes which he's trying to wipe before they even fall. 

"Me too," Selwyn says. "Brinny, she -- oh Gods," he wipes his eyes. "She had to grow up too soon. Your mother would've been so happy, so proud of you." 

"Gods, Dad, don't cry, you'll make me cry," Brienne says, voice already catching. She wants to go down and give him a hug, but she's not sure she can make it without tripping. 

"Don't you cry, Brinny," he says, tears coming with more force now, but he's smiling too. Myrcella scoots closer while Merry gives his hand a small squeeze.

Suddenly, it dawns on Brienne. "Where's Cersei?" 

As if on cue, there's a loud "tada!" All heads turn to see Cersei walk in a stunning sheer mermaid-style dress with strategically placed clusters of embroidery. 

"Isn't this simply marvellous?" She cooes as she sashays her way up the pedestal. Varys and Sweets exchange appalled yet amused looks while Myrcella takes in a sharp breath. 

"Mom, what are you doing? You said you're going to the bathroom," Marcie says. 

"'Powder room', honey. You say powder room. It’s more polite," Cersei answers through the mirror, adjusting the dress on her side boob. 

"It’s not polite to try on a dress at someone else's bridal appointment," Merianne says, her tone is stern but her eyes are anxious. 

"Don't you take that tone with me." Cersei narrows her eyes. 

"I'm not being rude. This is Brienne's day and --" 

"Uh- uh. You said it yourself. It's Brienne's day and she's not said a word. Now just wait till I tell Joffrey about this. I'll tell my son how you treat his mother, and then I'll see just how long your little relationship will last." 

Brienne knows Merianne isn't on good terms with Cersei even though the rest of the family thinks she's the best thing to ever happen to Joffrey.

Merry seems to shrink inwards, eyes glued to the floor. "It's just not right what you did," she insists in a small voice. 

"You aren't even engaged are you, Cersei?" Catelyn asks, perfectly manicured hands folded over crossed legs as she leans back into the chair. 

Cersei makes a dismissive noise. "Aurane and I know we're meant to be, Catelyn. It's only a matter of time before he pops the question. Why don't you worry about your daughter instead. Heard she's sleeping with our former chauffeur now, isn't that right?" 

If this were a cartoon, Brienne knew there would be smoke lines coming from Catelyn's head. 

"Why don't you take a seat, dear?" Varys says. "Once we're done with Brienne we can find something for you too. Something a little more -- _suitable_ for your age." 

That wipes the smile right off Cersei's face. She nods in what Brienne assumes is supposed to be a dignified way and goes to sit. 

"Why don't we get you changed first?" Margaery says and waves over a stone faced consultant. "Here, this is Unella. She'll help you with the dress." 

Brienne clasps her hands and waits for the cameras to settle down. 

Seeing Cersei in that dress has crushed the little joy Brienne had built up. No matter what she does, what she wears, she won't look like that. 

_It’s not a competition,_ Brienne reminds herself. _It’s my wedding._

"I'm ready to try on the next dress." 

"Alright love, we'll make sure your entourage stays put," Sweets says. 

Varys gives them a "you'd better" look. 

"Bri, I think you should take a look around and pick a dress," Myrcella says. Cat agrees. 

"Find something with a slit! Let's see some of those sexy legs!" Merry giggles. 

Blushing, Brienne gathers the seven hundred layers of her skirt while Margaery grabs the rest.

They walk past the sales racks and some of the smaller sizes before Margaery stops at a rack that looks taller than the others. 

"I'll look amongst these?" Bri asks,the cold air sending goosebumps all up her bare arms. 

"Yes, go ahead. Oh, almost forgot! We have some white suits in the back too, if you want to take a look at those." 

Pantsuits are comfortable. Pantsuits are a lifesaver. Pantsuits are all Brienne has worn for every presentation, science fair, prize distribution, seminar and interview she has ever given. 

A pantsuit is _not_ what Brienne wants to get married in. 

"Let's look around and then if I don't like anything then I'll try on a suit," she says finally. 

"Don't want to give your groom a run for his money, eh?" Margaery teases. 

Bri gives a polite laugh and gets cracking. 

Literally. The dress crunches and rustles as she moves the hangers around trying to look at the dresses. 

Margaery pulls out a few with deft movements and hangs them face out on an empty rack. 

"These are the ones with the leg slits." 

The camera man asks them to move as he gets close up shots of the gowns still in their plastic covers. 

At first glance they all look similar. White and big. Two have sleeves, one is a halter neck and one is a capped sleeve. 

Brienne nixes that one first. 

She's considering nixing the halter when something catches her eye. 

The dress is displayed on mannequin half a foot shorter than Brienne, but the pedestal makes up for it now. 

Eye to face with the featureless figure, Brienne is awestruck. 

The dress is made of a beautiful fabric, solid white with no ruffles but somehow it holds its shape. The skirt flares out at the waist but the train is short. Its strapless with a sweetheart neckline. A small diamond belt barely half a centimetre in width clasps against her waist, adding a little sparkle and division between the bodice and the skirt. The slit in the skirt runs all the way upto the thigh. 

Brienne blushes just imagining herself walking down the aisle with it on. Jaime would be shocked, to say the least. Bri isn't blind. Or stupid. She knows how he gawks over her legs. 

But it's …strapless. 

Full shoulders on display. And arms which she knows for a fact are larger than Jaime's. 

He'll look tiny next to her in this giant dress. _Like a Disney prince marrying an ogre._

"Do you wanna try it on?" Margaery asks gently. "The height may be a bit of an issue right now, but we can get it custom made for you." 

"Uh ---" _It’s just a fitting, it's not like I'm buying the dress._

_But why try it on if you know it's going to look bad? Just sour your mood even more._

_It is beautiful, though._

_You'll never look beautiful in it._

That last thought doesn't sound like hers. Because it's not her own. It’s the sound of everyone who's ever mocked her, bullied her, put her down to feel on top. 

Brienne has shined by herself her whole life. 

'Life isn't easy for those who are extraordinary. And wrestling is going to make it much harder,' her dad had told her when she had first considered wrestling as a career. 

But it's what she had wanted, so it's what she had done.

Now an international gold medal winning wrestler, she has proved herself thousand times over. 

If she could have faith in herself while making the most important decision of her life, then why not here? 

Jaime thought she was beautiful, what else mattered? 

And while she was considering it, why did she need anyone but herself to find her beautiful? 

Brienne told herself she had accepted herself as she was but maybe that was a lie. She _tolerated_ herself. 

What she saw in the mirror she never liked but she took that feeling, squeezed it into a ball and threw it in the back corner of her mind. She did this day after day till it happened before she even processed it. 

The feeling would expand when she was lonely, when she doubted herself, when she felt she wasn't good enough, that somehow looking as she did made her unworthy of love. 

After she had dried her tears and washed her face, she would squeeze that feeling down again and back it went till the next breakdown. 

Rinse, repeat. 

Those moments had gotten rarer and rarer, after she met Jaime. Would they ever go away completely? She didn't know. 

But what was important was not letting them stop her from doing what she loved, from being free. 

She wouldn't look like Cersei or Merianne or Sansa... but that was okay. 

Not everyone was made the same but that didn't make them inferior. 

She was harsher on herself than anyone else had been. 'I know they'll say mean things about me so I'd better just beat them to it,' she'd thought in school. 

Then there was a time where no one could say anything worse to her that she hadn't already told herself.

Acceptance. That wasn't what she had done though. If she had accepted how she looked, she wouldn't be on the verge of tears at the thought of trying on a puffy dress. 

But she has to start somewhere. The truth is, Brienne has come to a point where it isn't other people holding her back, it is herself. 

And she could let that go any second. It is a choice. 

Of course, it feels hard. And saying is easier than doing. But maybe it's worth a shot? 

_Gotta start somewhere. Why not here? Why not now?_

"I'll try this one on," Brienne says firmly, perhaps sharper than she'd intended. 

Margaery leads her to the dressing room again and helps her out of the ball gown. 

The new dress is pristine white. It holds its shape even off the mannequin. 

With shaky fingers, Brienne touches the seam running down the side of it. 

Feels the soft fabric, the belt, the dynamic cuts of the skirt. 

When it's on, Margaery gives a happy sigh. "You're going to love it," she says, earnestly. 

"Really?" 

"Oh, absolutely." 

Acutely aware of the cold air on her leg, Brienne takes in a sharp breath and squares her shoulders. "Here goes nothing." 

For a second Brienne is actually out of breath. 

The dress holds its shape elegantly against her body. The curved triangular cuts on the neckline stay up and contrast against her tan skin. 

The belt draws attention to her waist without being too much. 

And the skirt -- oh the skirt! The shape which felt intimidating on the mannequin balances her form perfectly. It flares out but has folds and tiers which are offset by the plain fabric. Her leg is bare to the thigh, showing off the toned muscles. 

Margaery has somehow produced a pair of white kitten heels to add to the outfit. She even fluffs out Brienne's hair so it frames her face better. 

It's what Brienne has been waiting for perhaps her whole life. She feels confident. 

Not pretty or delicate like she'd been hoping, but fierce and powerful. 

She feels like she does after a game she's won. A moment of victory, of happiness, coupled with a little disbelief, but with pride in herself. 

Nothing delicate about that, but therein lies its power. 

"I love it," she says. And is shocked at how true that is. 

"Let's show everyone," Margaery says. Brienne can hear the smile in her voice but is too busy staring at her own leg to confirm. 

When she walks back out, the store is emptier than before. The few people remaining look at her as she enters but Bri is too busy focusing on not clacking her heels to notice. 

She doesn't need any help climbing the pedestal since the dress doesn't get in the way. She faces the mirror and takes a moment for herself before turning to her entourage. 

There's been not a single peep out of any of them and suddenly Brienne is worried she's made a fool of herself. 

_No. No, stop that,_ she scolds herself before the second guessing gets out of hand. 

When she turns, Bri sees the look of awe evident on everyone's faces. 

Merianne is the first to break the silence. "Oh. My. Goodness. Bri, this is it! You are stunning! Uncle Jaime is going to faint right in the septon's arms, I'm calling it now." 

Bri snorts before she can stop it. "I like it too," she admits, shyly. 

"You look beautiful, Brienne. I wouldn't have picked it for you but now that it's on, it really becomes you," Catelyn says. The tight bun she always wears her hair in and the sharp glasses give her the air of a strict school teacher but Brienne knows the gentle lady underneath it all. 

"Thank you. I'm glad I didn't try on a pantsuit." Brienne deliberately ignores the arms in her reflection, focusing on the leg and the waist. "I'd have ended up buying it." 

"I'll be damned before I let you get married in a pantsuit," Catelyn says, the corners of her mouth lifted like she's fighting back a smile. 

"Its beautiful," Myrcella says. 

Even Cersei grumbles an "it's pretty." 

"Dad?" Brienne asks, suddenly worried it's not conservative enough. A lot of her dad's friends are coming and what'll they say and -- _oh, who cares? It’s my wedding!_ A small but loud part of Brienne says. 

"Dad, you haven't said anything." 

"I-I'm just --" he clears his throat. "I'm speechless, Brinny, you look -- like a bride." He's dabbing his eyes again, sniffing the manliest sniffs in the world. "This is your dress." 

"Well, let's get you jacked up then!" Varys says. He motions to Sweets who brings a floor-length veil and a handful of accessories. 

They flutter around her like butterflies, fluffing her hair, adding a pin here, a pin there, tucking and pulling. 

Finally, Varys motions Brienne to bend so he can place the veil. 

He arranges it around her shoulders and smoothes it down to her ankles. 

"Brienne, now open your eyes," he says. 

She does.

_This is really happening. I'm a bride. I'm getting married,_ she thinks. "Whoa." 

"Whoa is right," Margaery laughs. 

Dad is crying again, and laughing too. So is Brienne. 

"I can't wait till Jaime see's this," Brienne says. "I can't wait till the wedding." 

"Neither can we," Varys smiles. "So, Brienne are you saying yes to this dress?" 

Brienne grins, ear to ear, feeling, for once, content. "I'm saying yes to this dress!"

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a result of me watching only say yes to the dress clips on youtube for four days straight.  
> And like every tv show I watch, I need to imagine a westeros edition for it xD 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading!
> 
> Inspo for Bri's final dress -  
> https://pin.it/TRuh0N1 🤍


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